Pam's Birthday by Nick Varvaro
by Nick Varvaro
Summary: Pam celebrates a birthday, and the office partakes in a bake sale.


Pam is working at her desk. Her blouse is a little dressier than normal, and her hair is a bit neater. She turns as the door opens, and in walks Jim carrying a hugely conspicuous mylar balloon which says, "Happy Birthday!" She smiles and shakes her head as he approaches her desk.

(---

"It's my birthday. I try not to make a big deal out of it, because, well, let's just say that Michael can make you glad your birthday only comes once a year."

---)

"Here, could you hold this?" he says, as he hands the balloon over to her.

"Sure. What's the occasion?" she replies, as she ties the balloon to the arm of her chair.

"Oh, nothing, really. I just got up this morning and thought to myself, gee, if only I had a gigantic balloon." She giggles, and he smiles. "Happy birthday."

"Thank you," she says, with a nod.

"So, how are you going to--" He's interrupted as Michael enters the office.

"Hey, Pajamas!" Michael spots the balloon. "Wait, it's not your birthday, is it?"

"Well..." She looks at Jim, who smirks.

"I... knew that. Yes, gah, of course! I even got you a present, yes sirree... I think I... left it in... my office. Yes, I'll be right back." He goes into his office and shuts the door. Jim and Pam look through the blinds and see that he's scanning the top of his desk for something, anything.

Jim turns back to Pam. "So, are you excited about tonight?" he asks with mock anticipation.

"Not as excited as you should be to experience the glory of Beesly baking."

"Well, maybe I--"

Michael bursts out of his office. "Happy birthday Pam!" He plops onto the counter a stapler with a yellow post-it note attached that has hastily written upon it, "To Pam, From Michael," along with a sloppy heart.

"Gee...Michael...thanks... It's, um, it's just what I've always wanted." She takes the stapler and places it next to the identical one on her desk.

"Well, what can I say?" Pause. "Any messages?"

She hands them to him, and he is about to retreat into his office when he stops.

"You know what, we should get the party planning committee together and arrange you a surprise party!"

"No, really, that's all right. I don't want to bother Phyllis and Angela...and me."

"Well, suit yourself." He goes into his office and closes the door.

Jim turns to Pam. "Swingline. Classy," he says. Pam chuckles and sighs. "So, do you want your present now, or should I keep you in suspense?"

"Give it to me tonight. Ooh, I can't wait."

"Oh, but you're gonna have to, because if you think--"

Michael emerges from his office again and heads towards reception. "Hey, Pam, can I borrow your..." She's already holding up the stapler to return to him. He humbly retrieves it, quickly says, "Thank you...back to work!" and slinks back to his office.

----------

While Angela is at her desk reading a cookbook, Kevin enters the office with a plate covered in foil. He goes and places it on the kitchen counter. Meanwhile, Michael is in his office addressing the camera.

(---

"Tonight, we are sponsoring a bake sale at a local elementary school. They are letting us use their kitchen, and we are going to cook up a smorgasbord of delights for them. And it's all for charity, so... Of course I support the public school system in any way I can. We have a symbionic relationship with one another. We supply them with paper, and they supply us with...educated workers...when they get old enough, child labor laws and all. You might ask, who wants to sell paper when they grow up? Well, I do. And so do they. One year I volunteered to speak for Career Day, and, uh, there must have been some sort of scheduling problem, because when I got there there were only a few kids left. But, there was this one African-American kid who came up to me, and he asked me, 'Where does paper come from?' Curious young minds. And you should have seen the look on his face when I told him, 'From me.'"

---)

Around lunchtime, a group of officemates is gathered in the kitchen. Kevin is offering people M&M cookies from the plate that he brought in that morning. People seem to be enjoying them. A couple people ask him for the recipe, and he says he'll send it to them later.

(---

"The bake sale is taking place at my fiance's daughter Abby's school. We made too many cookies last night, so I brought in the extras. The recipe's a family secret, so...oh, shoot... My mom is going to kill me..."

---)

Michael walks in. "Hey, free food! Gimme, gimme, gimme!" Kevin offers him the plate, and Michael tries a cookie. "Mmm, these are delicious! Really, great! Who makes them, Pepperidge Farm? Chips Ahoy?"

"Uh, actually I made them."

"You're kidding, right?"

"No."

Michael's face falls.

(---

"Kevin's not the kind of guy I see as a world-class chef. A world-class eater, maybe."

---)

"Well, they are a little burnt. And stale. And undercooked. They're not as good as mine, but I guess they're all right, for some...people."

Kelly points out, "You just said you loved them."

"I was just being nice, Kelly. It's a little thing called tact?"

"You cook?" Phyllis asks.

"Yes, of course I cook. Why is that so hard to believe? I cook all the time. In fact, Wolfgang Puck is my middle name."

"Microwaving doesn't count, Michael," says Oscar.

"Well, listen." He sounds flustered. "You know what? Just you wait. I'll show you." He rushes back to his office, shuts the door, and picks up the phone.

----------

(---

"I got Pam two tickets to see the Neil Simon play that's showing downtown this weekend..." Jim holds up two tickets, and then slips them back into an envelope along with a card. "...because I know how much she's been wanting to go see it. And, you know, this way she can take Roy, or if it happens that he doesn't want to go, you know, someone else..."

---)

Pam pulls out from underneath her desk an old shoebox just as Dwight walks by.

"What is in there? Is it a dead animal?" he asks.

"No--" she says as she attempts to hide the box back underneath her desk.

"Because I could take that off your hands if you want." She stares at him.

(---

"Living on a beet farm, I've had lots of experience with animals. You might say I'm a hunter-gatherer. I hunt deer, and I gather animals for my terrarium. Snakes...lizards...leprechauns... No, of course I haven't caught any leprechauns." He looks off into the distance. "Though once I came close..."

---)

Jim looks over towards reception. Once Dwight walks away, Pam pulls out the shoebox again and starts looking through it. Jim walks over.

"What is in there? Is it a dead animal?" he asks.

She smiles. "No, if you must know, this is a time capsule."

"Oh really?"

"Yes. Every year on my birthday I put something in, you know, as a memento. My mom made me start it, but it's sort of fun. Like, um..." She rifles through the box and pulls out a piece of Dunder-Mifflin stationery. "This is from when I first started working here. And..." She puts it back and pulls out a drawing of a house with a terrace on the second floor. "...I drew this picture in fifth grade."

He looks at the picture and is obviously impressed. "Wow, you drew this in fifth grade?" She blushes. He looks it over a bit more and then notices a note written on the back. "What's this?"

"Oh, that's a note from my art teacher, Mrs. Stafford."

He reads part of it. "'Always follow your dreams.' Sage advice."

"Yeah."

Just then Roy walks in. He's carrying a poorly gift-wrapped box. Jim heads back to his desk. Roy leans in for a kiss, and Pam obliges.

"Happy birthday, Pammy." He hands her the gift. She looks surprised for a moment, but then accepts the box.

(---

"I don't care too much. Just the fact that Roy remembers my birthday is good enough for me. And to tell you the truth, he's not the greatest gift giver in the world. Last year, he gave me this sort of frilly blouse. It wasn't really my taste, but it's the thought that counts, so I wore it to work the next day. Then Kelly asked me where she could get one just like it." Pause. "I haven't worn it since."

---)

"Oh, you didn't have to."

"Of course I did, sweetie. Now open it up."

"No, I want to save it for tonight. Maybe after dinner. Or at the bake sale."

"Oh yeah, about that." Sensing something unpleasant, Jim gets up and heads towards the break room. "Would you mind if I skipped the bake sale tonight? I'm feeling sort of tired today, and I think I might just go home and take a nap after work. But I'll come by when it's over, and then we can go out and catch a late dinner. Come on, what do you say?"

She looks a bit disappointed. "Roy, it's my birthday. You should want to spend the entire day with me."

"I know, but baking isn't really my thing, you know that. I'll just get in the way. And we'll still have a romantic dinner and...whatever else afterwards. How about it?"

She pauses for a moment but then says, "Oh, all right." He leans in for another kiss. She's a bit more hesitant this time, but obliges anyway.

----------

Michael comes out of his office. "May I have everybody's attention, please. I have made some phone calls, and I have arranged for us to have a bake-off tonight at the school." Dwight pumps his fist. The other office workers exchange glances. "The school has arranged to have a panel of children as judges."

(---

"How did I arrange it? Simple. People will do anything you ask if you give them a bit of money and say a videocamera will be there. Like, there was this one time, Packer and I went out to this bar, and Pacman had a camcorder with him, and he paid people five bucks each to give me a wedgie. It was great."

---)

"What's the prize for winnng?" asks Angela.

"Um, a box of chalk...and the respect of everyone in the office, I mean, unless you already have it. This is your chance to put your cooking where your mouth is. And no cheating by bringing pre-baked desserts or cookies, Kevin. Of course, I will be competing as well, so get ready to see me burn some rubber!"

Michael goes back into his office. Jim goes up to Pam's desk. "This is going to be a disaster. Happy birthday."

"Aw, you shouldn't have." Pause. "Hey, so, uh, Roy's not coming tonight."

"Oh, he isn't?"

"Yeah, he's not really into cooking, so I thought maybe we could team up? You know, pool our efforts and ingredients? What do you say?"

Jim almost can't contain his smile. "All right, Beesly, you've got a deal. But only because I really need that chalk."

----------

Pam and Roy drive up to the elementary school around six. He pulls up in front of the school and turns off the ignition. Pam gets out with a small bag of ingredients and walks around to the driver's side window.

"All right, babe, I'll see you in a few hours, all right?" She looks slightly upset. "Come on, you said you wouldn't mind."

Somewhat resigned, she says, "I know, it's fine. You can go."

He can tell that she's not happy, so he suggests, "Here, why don't you open up your present now." He gives her a small nudge. "Come on, I bet it'll make you feel better." He gives her another nudge. She smiles a little. "All right." He reaches into the back seat, pulls out the present, and hands it to her as Jim parks a few spaces away.

With a smile, she puts down the bag she's holding, takes the box, tears off the wrapping paper, and lifts up the cover. After digging through some tissue paper, she lifts a garment halfway out of the box before her smile disappears. She looks at Roy glaringly. He looks as if he realizes he's just been caught, but tries to play innocent.

"So, uh, what do you think?"

She just stares at him for a second. "Roy, I don't get it. Did you think I wouldn't remember?"

He gives her a guilty look. "Well, I thought maybe you'd forgotten about it. It was stuffed into the bottom of the dresser, and I haven't seen you wear it for a year."

"Maybe because it's horrible?" She almost shocks herself saying that. "I can't believe you would do something like this." She tosses the box back into the car. It almost hits him in the head, but he leans back, and it sails in front of him and lands in the passenger seat. She turns halfway away from him.

"Oh, I'm sorry babe." He reaches out to place his hand on her shoulder, but she shakes it off. "All right, you're upset. You're upset. You're right, I was an idiot. I'll make it up to you later tonight, I promise. Just you wait. I'll be back in a couple hours, okay?"

"Fine."

"Okay, Pam? I'll make it up to you, I swear. All right. I love you." She turns to him and nods, and he drives off.

As he turns the corner, Pam suddenly realizes that she's standing in public and quickly glances around her. When she sees Jim getting out of his car, she tries to shy away. But he's already right next to her, so she turns to him and says, "Hi."

"Hey." Pause. He tries to sound more upbeat. "Well, what are we waiting for? Come on, let's get our apron on." He picks up the bag of ingredients, walks to the front of the school, and holds the door open for her. She briefly collects herself and then heads inside, giving Jim a small smile as she passes him.

----------

The Dunder-Mifflin employees are in the kitchen and are well underway in their cooking. Kevin is standing next to Abby as she attempts to pour some sugar into a measuring cup, but the counter is a little too high, and she spills sugar all over the place.

(---

"I decided to let Abby do the baking tonight. I think we have a good chance of winning. She's a great cook." He leans forward and mischievously whispers, "She also knows all of the judges."

---)

Dwight is also set up nearby, although he is somewhat mystified by the variety of blender settings.

(---

"I am making apple strudel, based on a recipe my grossmutter gave to me. I have fond memories of it from my childhood. We would often come home to find a steaming plate of it on the kitchen table, and if we had been good, we were allowed a piece and it tasted delicious." Pause. "If we had been bad, it was laced with ipecac."

---)

Michael, meanwhile, is in a corner wearing a "World's Greatest Chef" apron, although it is clear that this is far from the case. Not only is his counter in complete disarray, but he looks rather disheveled himself.

(---

"I'm used to cooking alone. There are too many people in here. Too many cooks spoil the crowd. But don't you worry, I have a backup plan."

---)

The others, including Jim and Pam, are all hard at work. Eventually all the dishes are in the ovens, and most of the people are standing around. Michael, however, is nowhere to be seen, but his oven is on. Jim and Pam are in front of their oven, waiting for their brownies to finish baking.

"Oh, Pam, you've got something on your face." Jim motions towards his nose, and Pam, whose face is clean, wipes the tip of her nose. "No, you missed it, it's, no, more to the left." She keeps wiping. "No, here, it's right here." He reaches out and touches the tip of her nose, leaving a big spot of flour. "There."

She gives him a mock scowl and crinkles her nose. "Oh yeah, well, you've got something right here!" She grabs a bit of flour and then reaches up and rubs it into his hair.

"Oh, is that how it's going to be? Come on, bring it on!" As they scuffle playfully in a white cloud, an older teacher comes in and asks how everything is going. When Pam notices her, she stops suddenly.

"Oh my god, Jim, that's Mrs. Stafford!" She looks at Jim, who looks back at her. "She must have transfered to this school!"

"You should go say hello."

"No, she probably doesn't remember me. It was a long time ago."

"How could she not remember her prize pupil?" Pam's cheeks turn a bit rosy beneath the powder of flour. "And even if she doesn't, you should still say hi." He nudges her, but she doesn't say anything, so he calls out, "Hey, Mrs. Stafford!"

Pam turns to him and whispers, "Jim!" as she approaches.

"Yes?"

"Hi, you probably don't remember me, but I was in your art class, like fifteen years ago. Pam? Pam Beesly?"

Mrs. Stafford furrows her brow for a moment and then has a sudden realization. "Yes, of course! Pam!" She leans in for a hug. "Wow, you're all grown up!"

"Well, not all grown up..."

"I'm sorry, I actually have to go make sure things are running smoothly outside, but find me afterwards, okay? I'd love to catch up."

"Okay, I will, Mrs. Stafford."

"Betty."

"Um, okay, Betty then. Bye."

"Bye."

As she walks away, Jim and Pam exchange glances. They then realize that their timer has already gone off and that their brownies are being overcooked. Pam quickly pulls them out of the oven and cuts a piece. She splits it and gives half to Jim, and they both try it. It's a little too chewy, but perhaps barely salvageable.

----------

Everyone is finishing up their desserts and bringing them out for the audience of parents and kids, as well as the panel of judges. When Abby comes out carrying a lopsided, poorly frosted cake, she gives the judges a wink. Also setting up are Angela with a plate of cookies, Jim and Pam with their brownies, Dwight with his strudel, and a few other office workers with various baked goods. Noticeably absent is Michael.

One of the teachers calls the judging to order, and everybody prepares a small portion for each of the judges. They are about to start when Michael rushes in.

"I'm here, I'm here! Don't start without me!" He's carrying a very professional looking cake and finds himself a spot.

Angela takes a look at the cake and says, unconvinced, "You made that."

"Yes I made it. Gah! Why doesn't anyone have faith in their leader?" The other officemates look at each other. "I had some trouble getting it just right, but I suppose it'll have to do. Hey, I volunteer to go first."

He gets a knife and awkwardly cuts out small portions for the judges.

Jim points out, "Michael, that's an ice cream cake."

"Yes, well, it's an old family recipe."

"You made that in the ovens here?"

"Uh, yes. It's very complicated. Haven't you heard of baked Alaska? It's like that, only different."

"The cardboard plate it's on says Carvel."

"What?" He looks down to see that indeed this is the case. "Yes, well, um, that was my mother's maiden name."

"I see."

One of the teachers approaches Michael. "Um, Michael, we can't let you compete if you cheated. It would set a bad example for the kids."

He looks around and realizes that there's no escape. "Fine, fine. I'll just... go eat this myself." He messily piles the servings he's already cut out onto the top of the cake and hurries out of the room.

----------

The judging is over, and one of the teachers is announcing the results. "And the winner is... Angela, with her chocolate chip cookies!" The crowd applauds, and Angela smiles and takes a bow. "Now, if everyone will bring the rest of their dishes into the hallway, we can start the sale."

They head out to the hallway, where Michael is already sitting, looking dejected. One of the teachers goes up to him. "I'm sorry about what happened earlier, but if you still want to take part in the sale, you're welcome."

He sighs and sets himself up. A young girl comes up to him. "How much is a piece of cake?"

"For you, twenty-five cents."

The girl pulls out a handful of pennies from her pocket and spills them onto the table. Then she starts counting them one at a time. "Eighteen, nineteen..." It's clear that there aren't going to be enough.

"Hey, you know what? That looks just about right!" He goes to cut a piece. "I'll tell you what, I am going to give you some extra cookie crumble. But don't tell anyone!" He finishes cutting it and hands it to her on a plate.

She smiles. "Thank you!"

He smiles. "You're welcome!" As she walks off, he gathers up the pennies, puts them in his pocket, fishes out a dollar from his wallet, and throws it into the cash bin.

Angela's cookies are selling quite well. Dwight goes up to her.

"Hello, Angela."

"Good evening, Dwight."

"Those cookies look great."

"Thank you, Dwight."

"I think I'll take one." He pays for it and she gives him one. He takes a bite. "Mmm, these are delicious, Angela. You know, you might not want to sell all of these."

"And why is that, Dwight?"

"Well, don't you want to save some cookies for yourself...for later?"

"Perhaps I will." They exchange almost imperceptible smiles until a parent approaches, at which point Dwight abruptly leaves.

Jim follows Pam as she finds Mrs. Stafford mingling with some parents. At an opportune moment, she reintroduces herself.

"Hi, Mrs. Stafford, it's me again."

"Oh, Pam, hello! And I told you, it's Betty."

"I'm sorry, uh, Betty." She giggles. "Oh, and this is Jim."

Jim and Mrs. Stafford shake hands. "Hi," he says.

"Nice to meet you," she replies.

Pam continues. "So what are you doing at this school?"

"Well, I heard from a friend of mine that they needed an art teacher here. The old one retired last year, and they needed someone to help out. But enough about me, Pam. Tell me what you're up to these days."

"Well, I'm, uh, working in Scranton." Pause.

"What do you do?"

"I'm, um, a receptionist at a paper company."

"That's...great!" Pause. "Hey, you know, they're looking for a new art teacher at your old school! If, you know, you're ever looking for another job, I could put in a word for you..."

"Oh, no, that's fine, really. I'm not looking to move around right now."

"Okay, but if you ever change your mind, let me know."

"Okay." Pause. "Let's see...Oh, and I'm getting married soon!" She holds up her engagement ring.

"Wow! That's great! Congratulations!" She examines the ring. "Very nice." Then she turns to Jim. "So, when's the wedding?"

Jim starts, "It's, uh... Oh, no, we're not getting married!"

Pam interjects, "Oh, yeah, no, we're--"

Mrs. Stafford tries to correct her mistake. "Oh, I'm so sorry! I mean, I just assumed, because of earlier in the kitchen, and now, and..."

Pam responds, "Oh, yeah, no. Jim's just..."

Jim awkwardly adds, "Yeah, we're just--"

Pam continues. "...he's just..." She appears flustered. "...someone from work."

At that remark, Jim appears crestfallen. "Yeah, we just, um, work together, that's all." Pause. "Hey, Pam, uh, why don't I go get your present? I'll be right back." He starts to walk off.

Pam calls after him. "Hey, Jim!" He turns in midstride and gives her a small smile and waves her off. As he heads down the hallway and out the door, he can still hear a part of Pam's conversation.

"Present?" Mrs. Stafford asks.

"Oh, yeah, um, it's my birthday today."

"Oh, happy birthday!" Pause. "You don't seem too excited about it."

----------

Outside, Jim goes over to his car just as Roy pulls up in his truck. Jim gets the envelope containing Pam's present out of the passenger seat, and as he heads towards the front door, Roy gets out of his truck. "Hey, Halpert!" Jim turns around to look at Roy. "Can I talk to you for a second?"

Jim approaches him. "Yeah, sure."

They stand next to each other for a moment. Roy lowers his voice. "I need a big favor." Pause.

"What do you mean?"

"I...I blew it with Pam today." Jim doesn't say anything. "And I promised I'd make it up to her, but I don't know what to do." Pause. "I was hoping, maybe, you could give me an idea?"

Roy appears genuinely worried. Jim looks at him for a few seconds before saying, "You know what? You're in luck. I've got the perfect thing." He pulls out the envelope from his pocket and takes out the two tickets. "These are tickets to this play that's showing downtown this weekend. I was going to go myself, but, I don't know, maybe Pam will want to go."

He holds them out for Roy. "Hey, man, really?"

"Sure, go ahead."

Roy takes them. "Wow, thanks!" He looks at them for a moment. "How much do I owe you?"

"Don't worry about it, you can pay me back later."

"Okay." He slaps Jim on the back. "Hey, man, I owe you big time."

"No, really, it's..."

"No, I mean it. If there's anything I've got that you want, just let me know and it's yours."

Jim looks down and nods. "Okay, I'll think of something."

Roy slaps the tickets against his left palm and then rushes inside. Jim lingers outside for a short while longer.

When he finally decides to go back in, he sees Roy and Pam hugging. Then he hears them talking. "Neil Simon! How did you know? I've been wanting to see this all month!"

"What can I say, babe? I told you I'd make it up to you." He kisses her on the cheek. She smiles. "Maybe I'll get a cookie or something and then we can go, all right?"

"Okay." Roy goes off to look at the offerings, and Pam puts the tickets in her pocket.

Jim approaches Pam. "Hey."

"Hey."

"I, uh..." He holds up the envelope. "I have the card, but I think I must have left your present at home," he says guiltily. "But I'll bring it in on Monday, I promise, okay?" he adds quickly.

"Oh, don't worry about it, that's fine. But this card had better be awesome though." He smiles and hands it to her.

She opens the envelope and pulls out the card. It's homemade. On the front is a painting of some sort, a random mess of blue swirls. She opens the card. It reads, "I call it 'Dreams'. It's abstract, you wouldn't understand." She giggles. Below that, it reads, "Always follow your dreams. Jim."

"Aw, thanks Jim. It is awesome, thank you."

"You're very welcome."

Roy walks up to them. "Hey, Halpert." He slaps him on the back and then turns to Pam. "Ready to go?"

"Yup. I'll see you on Monday, Jim."

"All right you two, take care."

(---

"Why did I do it?" Jim shrugs. "Why not?"

---)

As Pam and Roy walk out, she puts her arm around his waist, and he puts his hand on her shoulder. She takes out the two tickets and looks at them again. Then she turns one of them over and notices that there is a blue splotch of paint on it. She's confused for a moment and looks up at Roy, who doesn't notice. She quickly turns her head to look back, but she doesn't see Jim and keeps on walking.

Roy opens the passenger side door for her, and she gets in. As Roy walks around the back of the truck, she pulls out Jim's card and looks at it for a second. Then she quickly reaches under the seat, pulls out the old shoebox, and slips the card inside. She puts the box back before he gets in, and they drive off.


End file.
